Thundercats: The Aftermath
by WhatTheFwak
Summary: Four years have passed since the Lion-O's victory over Mumm-Ra. With Mumm-Ra's forces growing more and more fearsome by the day, witness the Thunderans' struggle to prevent the remaining stones from falling into his possession. Mature continuation of the unfinished 2011 series. 26 Episodes, 26 Chapters. Enjoy!
1. Hopeless

**Disclaimer/Author's Note:**

 **First of all, I don't own Thundercats as a series. That right belongs to Warner Bros. Entertainment.**

 **After the first season of the amazing Thundercats 2011 series, I waited on end for years and years for the next season to come out. It never did, sadly enough. Instead we got Thundercats Roar. Which is just... awful. So I decided to make my own continuation of the show with all the unused plots that were supposed to be in Season 2. I hope it lives up to your expectations, but I had to give some sort of ending to the show. No matter how mediocre it is. Enjoy!**

Looking back, the world seemed full of hope after that initial victory over Mumm-Ra. The first step in overcoming the difficulties that came with rebuilding Thundera. Having the allies who aided him in the fight cheer as he raised the Sword of Omens gleaming high up in the air. There was a chance. There was a dream. Now, that dream was gone. Mumm-Ra's forces swarmed Third Earth mere months afterwards. The City of Dogs fell first. Then the Fishmen. And Elephant City. The list went on and on. The survivors of the fallen nations banded together to oppose Mumm-Ra, but even now, their forces were dwindling while Mumm-Ra's grew stronger. Could the rebellion successfully defend Third Earth? Or would Mumm-Ra kill them all?

"Lion-O!" his head jolted up as he snapped out of his thoughts. "Y-yeah!..." Lion-O mumbled and scratched his head with a slight grin on his face, hiding the anxiety he was harboring in his head. Why did he suddenly start thinking about the futility of the war, though? It didn't matter.

"Stop daydreaming! The situation grows dire in Magi-Oar. We have to decide our next course of action soon or we'll lose more ground to Mumm-Ra!" Cheetara yelled.

"Sorry, my head's not in the game today.."

"Well, get it together. I know you're still upset over what happened in Cloud Peak, but we can't afford to have our leader musing about while Mumm-Ra's forces siege the forest." She looked down at Lion-O, who was completely nonchalant, as if he had no concept whatsoever of what was going on. A frown appeared across her forehead as she turned back to the map.

"Onto the war efforts, I propose we..." She trailed off.

He sighed, leaning back into the chair. As it was right now, Mumm-Ra had dominion over almost half of the planet and was still gaining. Meanwhile, the allied forces were struggling to keep control over the territories they had held for over 5000 years, back when they first landed on Third Earth. Was losing just one more forest really going to matter? No.. Of course it did! "...surrender."

Wait, did he hear that right? Did Cheetara just come up with the idea of surrendering? The strong willed, optimistic Cheetara wants to surrender? "Wh-" He was cut short by a deep growl. "I agree." Panthro said, arms folded. "What's the point of fighting anymore? Either we give up or Mumm-Ra will kill us all!" "Panthro, not you too?" What was going on? "Why would they..." Lion-O whispered under his breath.

Lion-O stood up, knocking his chair over. "What about the Thunderran Code?! Listen to yourselves! How can you give up on the rebellion so easily?! We're the last hope for Thundera and if we won't fight for Third Earth who will?!" He slammed his gauntlet-clad hands onto the table.

"Lion, face it. We're losing more and more troops every day while Mumm-Ra grows stronger every second. He's unbeatable! We've lost!" Tygra growled.

''We beat him once, we'll-" "We'll DIE! We-YOU got lucky one time! The next time you won't have Mumm-Ra surrounded by a hundred elephants and fishmen! Next time, you'll be alone and you'll lose. I'm done. I'll be gone by tomorrow." His claws dug into the table, knocking it over before he stormed out of the tent. He turned and shot a scowl towards Lion-O. "I'm sure dad would've loved to see you throw the lives of our soldiers away. You're no leader. Not my leader."

Panthro followed suit, not even looking in Lion-O's direction while doing so. He stared at the opening in disbelief at what had just happened. "Cheetara.. I-"

"Lion, I hate to say it. But we can't do this anymore. I'm sick of waking up every morning to see more and more of our people dead. If you have any sense of logic left, you should come with us and surrender. Maybe Mumm-Ra will spare the other rebels. Or what remains of them, at least. Please consider this, Lion-O. I know you can set aside your pride and do what's right for our people." She said, before walking out into the night as well.

He slumped down into the chair. The last of his original companions had just abandoned him. Wilykit and Wilykat had long been gone, off to their own endeavors after that incident. Pumyra, who he thought was the love of his life had betrayed him years ago. Was it really worth it to continue this war? Each day, more and more of his allies deserted him and joined Mumm-Ra's forces. Is the war already lost? He thought. Come to think of it, why did the war suddenly seem so hopeless? Just the day before, the rebellion had managed to take control of Mount Plun-Darr and were celebrating the victory. What happened to cause this abrupt shift in spirits? The familiar sound of metal clanging and shouting interrupted his thoughts. An attack? He drew his sword and ran out of the tent.

"What's going on?!" It wasn't an attack. Not an enemy attack, at least. Outside, the dogs and fishmen clashed their swords and harpoons against each other.

"Lion. O." A berbil came running over, or rather it tried to. Running wasn't exactly easy when your feet were attached directly to your torso, though.

"Uh...Robo-Bear? Why are they fighting?" Lion-O asked. "Fishman thinks war is lost. Rebel to help. Mumm-Ra."

"Great.. this again." He mumbled, running over and cleaving the ground between the combatants in two with the Sword of Omens.

"What in Thundera is going on here?!" He demanded.

"Sir, the fishmen have gone mad! They wanted us to join Mumm-Ra and betray the rebellion! When we refused, they attacked us!" One of the dogs said.

"The war is lost! I would rather serve Mumm-Ra and live than fight another day for your hopeless cause! We joined you out of the ridiculous idea that we would defeat Mumm-Ra but all we've gotten in return is suffering for our soldiers! I renounce the alliance! Death to Mumm-Ra's enemies!" He yelled, charging forward at Lion-O before he and his fellow fishmen were knocked down by the earth itself shaking. A shadow loomed over the gathered forces.

"Thanks, Aburn." A hulking figure stepped out of the darkness. "At least some of my allies still support me."

The elephant shook his head, trunk swaying from side to side in the process. "Lion-O. I defended you out of respect for the long history we have together, but I have come to tell you that the foolishly-made alliance between our kinds is broken." Aburn said.

"What? Why?!" "Surely you must know the reason. The war, is lost." No further words were spoken as the gray giant turned and walked away slowly.

"What should we do with the fishmen, sir?" No response. "Sir?" The dog's words weren't getting through to him.

He stared up into the stars with a blank stare plastered across his face, mouth slightly open. The war was lost, wasn't it? Everyone felt the same way, except for the dogs apparently. And the berbils. Then again they weren't exactly the most logical thinkers. Why would they understand whether the war could be won or not? Or was it because their minds were artificial? Who knows. Maybe... just maybe... he was the one who was wrong. Was the war lost? No. No, it wasn't. As long as there was still blood in his veins, he would fight. In the name of all that was right, he would oppose Mumm-Ra. "Sir!" He snapped out of his thoughts. "Lock them up and interrogate them in the morning. They might be under some sort of influence."

The dog saluted him. "You heard the king! Get them in the cage!" The other dogs bound their hands and led them away.

"Is that all, sir?"

"Yeah. Get some rest. You'll need it." He said, before walking back to his tent. Not before catching a glimpse of a dog soldier resting against a tree, face scarred beyond recognition. No doubt another casualty from the war. If it wasn't for the rebellion, would he be living a peaceful life in the City of Dogs? Perhaps, perhaps not. It wasn't a good time to continue pondering whether their cause was righteous or not. His eyes snapped back to the tent, before he entered it. The tent wasn't exactly the most comforting place.

The walls were adorned with war plans and maps. The floors scattered with crushed papers. Beside the armor stand next to his bed was a heavily scarred table with papers, the Book of Omens and memorabilia of better times scattered across it. Those days were gone, though. He sat down on his bed, a liberty that most of the other rebels didn't have. Resources were being diverted to the construction site after all. What the hell was Tygra's deal though? Didn't they get past this petty blood son dispute years ago? Why would he bring this up again out of nowhere? So much for the Loyalty in the Thunderran Code. Either way, what's done was done. If anyone else were to look at the current situation, they would with utmost certainty believe that Mumm-Ra would come out on top. Mumm-Ra...

Could Mumm-Ra be using his powers to cause conflict amongst them? He certainly had the capability to do so. He snapped his fingers, that was it! After that loss at Plunn Darr, Mumm-Ra probably had to resort to cheap tricks like manipulating their minds in order to get them to lose hope and give up on the war! There was still a chance to regain the support of his friends and allies. But he had to find a way to break Mumm-Ra's hold over them. "The Book of Omens might provide the answer.", he thought. Getting up, he walked over to the wooden table and sat down. He hadn't done this in quite some time. "Alright, Book. Do your thing." His fingers ran across the seal on the book, prompting a red beam of light to emit from the red gem in its center. Familiar wisps of energy snaked out of its pages, enveloping his body and pulling his spirit into the book's ethereal world.

His eyes opened to a strange glowing entity in front of him before it took the form of Jaga, looking as wise and relaxed as ever.

"Ah, Lion-O. You haven't visited in a while. What brings you here this time?" He inquired.

"Jaga, I need to know how to break Mumm-Ra's control over the rebels. Is there anything in the past that will give me the answer?"

"The book shall not provide you with the solution. But, I will."

"Well, how do I do it?"

"Why do you think the dogs haven't betrayed you yet?"

"...Because they're...they're... Why?"

"Dogs, the strange but powerful beasts that they are, take pride in their dedication to their leaders. No matter how bleak a situation may seem, their spirit will never waiver as long as their leader's doesn't."

"So you're saying that they haven't given up because I haven't either?" "Of course. Giving up is not in your nature. Headstrong and unwaivering."

"...Thanks, but I still need to know how to get the rest of the Rebellion back on my side."

"Mumm-Ra's hold over your forces is based off of their fear."

"Fear?"

"Yes. The ever present thought in the back of every soldier's mind. That they will lose. That they will die. He takes advantage of that uneasiness and coerces them to rebel against you."

"Well, how do I get them back on my side?"

"A leader's responsibility is to inspire loyalty and hope in his people. How you go about doing this is entirely up to you. I have no further counsel to provide to you. For now, I must tend to a far more dire situation." Jaga turned around, fading away into the suspended lines of light.

"Wait, I- GAH!" He was cut short by the regaining of his consciousness in the corporeal world.

"Damnit!" He slammed his hands on the table, leaving dents in the wood as he had done countless times before.

"Fat load of help that was." He murmured out loud, leaning back into the wooden chair. What kind of business could the spirit of a dead man have to deal with? Whatever. "Inspire hope? How am I supposed to go about doing that?" His eyes shifted toward the Thunderran insignia on the table. Come to think of it, there was no symbol to represent the Rebellion. Maybe the troops needed something to fight for. They needed to know that they weren't alone, that they had allies.

They-no, Third World needed a symbol of justice. A shining beacon of light in the darkness of Mumm-Ra's overwhelming power. He grabbed a "pen", something that the Berbils had invented. A small stick with a metal tip that excreted ink when pressed on paper and got to work on the design of the new Rebellion Insignia.

The chirping of birds in the trees above interrupted Lion-O's sleep. He jolted awake, visibly spent after hours of endless drawing and brainstorming last night. He looked down on his work. Thankfully there wasn't any drool on it. After all, this was his greatest masterpiece.

"Heh, not bad." He said, rolling the parchment up before walking out of his tent.

He raised his gauntlet in a futile attempt to block the sun's rays from entering his eyes, to no avail. As the blurry world around him came into focus, one thing was quickly apparent. Nobody except for a few berbils walking around and the caged fishmen were here. Either they were all still sleeping, couldn't be bothered to come out of their tents or had abandoned him during the night. His free hand clenched into a fist and he gritted his teeth in fury.

"Ugh..Its fine. I'll lift their spirits with this!" He said, looking down at the rolled up drawing in his hands. A smile crept across his face. He walked over to a small pile of crates, likely containing Panthro's many tools and weapons. Or food supplies, not that anything would've deterred him from his endeavor.. It made a good podium, though.

"Rebels! I have an announcement to make!" Lion-O yelled. The camp began to stir with activity as the soldiers hiding from their duties in tents came out to see what the commotion was about.

Murmurs filled the air as the dogs and fishmen asked about what was going on. Panthro and Cheetara walked into the scene, already preparing to leave. They would stay, just to listen to Lion-O's final words to them, though.

"Gather around me. There is something important that I must show you." He commanded. A crowd began to form around him as the soldiers assembled to see what their leader had to reveal to them.

"For months I know you've all been asking whether the fight against Mumm-Ra's forces is worth it. At times, it might seem like its hopeless. Pointless. That Mumm-Ra is unbeatable. But I say that Mumm-Ra can be defeated! We've done it once before, but only when we were united."

As he continued, excited whispers shot around the congregation. Perhaps he had a point. They did beat Mumm-Ra with a significantly lower amount of allies, but what was it that he had to show? Was it a weapon that could defeat Mumm-Ra? Something to turn the tides of war in their favor?

Anticipation built up amongst the soldiers, who were dying to see what was so important that they all had to gather here. Tygra crossed his arms, a frown snaking across his forehead. Surely this was a farce and he had nothing to show, right? But if he did... then...

"So, as a representation of that unity we once had, I proclaim this to be the new Insignia of the rebellion!" Lion-O proclaimed, grinning and proudly holding up the rebellion's emblem to show to everyone.

A terribly done sketch of a simplistic hybrid of the races participating in the efforts against Mumm-Ra. Drawing wasn't exactly his forte, after all. After a short silence as the soldiers stared in awe, not at how great it looked, rather at how awful it was.

"What a waste of time. I'm out." Tygra said, walking off along with Cheetara and Panthro. The rest of the congregation began to leave as well, muttering to each other with disappointment. "Wait! I-..." His plan failed. He had to do something to regain their loyalty before everyone completely abandoned the cause. Last resort, then. He hated doing this. "Cowards!"

The rebellion stopped in their tracks, turning to look at the Thunderran standing high above them.

"What was that?!" Panthro yelled. He began to walk over, ready to pummel this young upstart king into a pulp.

"Here goes nothing." Lion-O said under his breath. "You heard me Panthro, you and all who would abandon the fight against Mumm-Ra are cowards! Fools who would run away instead of standing their ground against tyranny. We're the last line of defense against Mumm-Ra and you would join him instead of fight against him?!"

"What else can we do?! Mumm-Ra is killing more and more of us every day while his forces grow stronger! We can't win this war!"

"The victory at Plunn-Darr two days ago tells me otherwise. The victory against Mumm-Ra himself in Avista tells me otherwise. That look in your eyes as Mumm-Ra retreated in fear told me otherwise! But now, I see in your eyes the same fear that would gouge out your honor. A day may come when our courage fails, when we forsake our friends and break all bonds of alliance, but it is not this day!" He shouted, drawing the Sword of Omens out of his gauntlet and plunging its blade into the wood beneath him.

"An hour of war and shattered shields, when the age of beast comes crashing down. But it is not this day! This day, we fight! By all that you hold dear on this world, I ask that you stand, men of the rebellion! For Third Earth!" He declared, holding the sword high in the air.

Panthro's eyes grew wide as he looked down in shame. Lion-O was right. What was he thinking? He gritted his teeth. How shameful. The great general of Thundera, running away from battle like some kitten with his tail tucked between his legs? NO! He was a warrior. His honor would not allow it. He- would not allow it.

The same awkward silence from before filled the air. But this time, it was different. The awestruck looks across the soldiers' faces were of reverence instead of disgust. Cheers filled the air as the rebels voiced their approval for Lion-O's speech. Even the fishmen raised their hands and roared in support. He had managed to overcome Mumm-Ra's power. If it were even Mumm-Ra who did this to them, at least. It didn't matter now. He had the backing of the rebellion once again.

As the crowd dissipated, chattering excitedly about the battle they would have with Mumm-Ra's lizards in Magi-Oar, spirits high in the air at this point, Lion-O stepped down from the podium. Only to be approached by Panthro, who was scratching his head and Tygra, whose eyes were fixated on the ground. How could he look his brother in the eye after what he said to him?

"Lion-O, I-" He was interrupted by Lion-O placing his hand on his shoulder. He looked up, only to see a warm smile in place of the cold snarl he was expecting. "Don't sweat it. I doubt you meant those words either. After all, I think that Mumm-Ra was gulling us all into thinking that the war was done."

"That would explain why I suddenly felt so hysterical." Panthro said. "The mighty Panthro, hysterical? Now that's something I thought I wouldn't hear." Lion-O laughed. "I-I.. I mean- Oh, shut up." Panthro turned away, arms folded with a face that was in between embarassed and angry.

"Where's Cheetara?" Lion-O asked. "She went to tell Bengali that we weren't vacating after all."

"Oh. Well, its fine. As long as you guys are back on my side, I'm happy. You had me worried there for a second." He nudged Tygra's shoulder with a grin.

"Well, about that new Insignia you showed us just now..." "Ah.. Well, I thought it was a good idea."

"Its a great idea! It just needs... some refining. And I know just the person to do that!"

"Hold that thought. We need some way to prevent Mumm-Ra from affecting us again."

Lion-O scratched his chin. "Maybe the Berbils can do something?" "I doubt any tech on Third Earth can counter Mumm-Ra's powers." \

"What about something enchanced by the Tech Stone?" "That might work. Get the Berbils on it."

"Sure, my king." Tygra laughed before beginning his journey to the Berbils' village, conveniently located just a few kilometers away from the camp. Which would still take a while to reach. The Berbils did provide a lot of high tech gear to the Rebellion, though. Including downsized versions of the Thundertank called "Thundercycles". It took a while to get the hang of, but once they did, it was definitely the fastest way to travel on Third Earth, much to the chagrin of Cheetara. He waved Tygra goodbye, before looking back at the construction site behind him.

"GRRRRAAH!" Mumm-Ra yelled in fury, smashing a green crystal onto the ground. "I was so close! SO CLOSE! To ending this pathetic rebellion! This thorn in my foot. That fetid worm, Leo's descendants still HAUNT me to this day!" He breathed heavily through his clenched teeth.

"Master, are you.. alright?" A female voice asked from the hallway.

"Pumyra, you worthless excuse for a servant! I should never have saved your pitiful soul on that day. The last thing I want to see right now is one of Leo's disgusting bloodline! GET OUT!" Pumyra bowed, moving backwards into the hallway and leaving. "Thunderrans... I will destroy you and this disgusting planet one day. EVEN IF I HAVE TO RIP ITS VERY CORE OUT OF ITS FOUL ROCK!"

Mumm-Ra's rage echoed through the hallway and the surrounding area. Something that was becoming more and more of a commodity nowadays. His frenzied fits of rage were getting worse and worse.

Meanwhile, Pumyra's footsteps echoed through the dark hallways of the Black Pyramid. An endless darkness in place of the bright lights, marble floors and stone pillars in Thundera.

The laughter of children in the city. Women bartering with the local butcher, the whistling of disgusting men as she walked down the busy streets. She missed it all. How long had it been since she last experienced any of it? Now, all she got to see were lurking shadows that disappeared around corners into nothing, the uneasiness of the dimly lighted rooms and evil cackling from the disgusting lizards.

And who was the one who took Thundera away from her? Was Lion-O truly to blame, or was it the being who destroyed Thundera? Who knows. All she knew was that Mumm-Ra was her master. So she had to follow him, right? Even if she enjoyed the time she spent with Lion-O, wasn't he the one who left her to die while Mumm-Ra was the one who saved her? She had been pondering this for quite a while. Perhaps...

"So, what do you think?" Cheetara rolled open yet another sketch of the new insignia. While it was far superior to Lion-O's concept art, it still lacked something. Something they couldn't quite put their finger on.

"What about an eyepatch?" Panthro casually chimed in.

"Panthro, no."

"Why not? Its a symbol of power!"

"If you say so." Lion-O laughed. He was worrying just hours ago that he wouldn't ever experience something like this again, the laughter of comrades as they sat around a table and discussed ongoings in life.

"What are you smiling about? Put your poker face back on, Mr. Leader." Panthro snarled.

"Ah, no. Its just... its just good to have you guys back again." He grinned.

"Whatever kid."

"How about we get rid of the trunk and replace it with tusks?"

"Yeah the trunk doesn't quite fit the dog snout." Panthro chimed in.

"Alright, how about we remove thi-" Lion-O's hand knocked over a cup of red paint, splattering it across the design. The three's mouths gaped as wide as they could go before Lion-O finally broke the silence. "Whiskers."

"Well, actually it doesn't look too bad. Might actually look better than before!" Panthro said.

"Well, it does look more... Abstract?" "This might be it!" Cheetara yelled.

"Alright, looks like I have some affinity for art after all!"

"Don't flatter yourself, kid. You're hopeless at drawing."

"Alright, alright. I-"

"But you make a pretty damn good leader. Keep it up, my King." A huge grin made its way across Lion-O's face.

"Either way, we're going to need more than just a paint splattered drawing to motivate the soldiers." Panthro said.

"Why don't we award soldiers for their bravery in combat and upholding the Thunderran Code?"

"That could work... I've got it! How about we replace the red crests' on their armors with the new insignia?" Lion-O said.

"Only the ones who deserve it. But how do we decide who deserves one? Do we go by battle prowess or how they uphold the Thunderian Code's values?"

"Hmm, if it were by battle prowess you should probably give me a hundred of them."

"Always one to brag, Panthro." Cheetara said.

"Only the weak are humble. The strong are proud."

"That's not gonna work. If we're going to make these a symbol of prestige, only men-at-arms should get it. Not the leaders."

There was silence in the war room as they pondered over how they would go about awarding these new "medals" to the soldiers.

"Any warrior in the alliance can kill a few lizards. But only a few can down one of Mumm-Ra's generals."

Panthro finally spoke up, breaking the awkward silence.

"Agreed. They should earn the insignia by overcoming obstacles such as overwhelming enemy forces and the like." Cheetara added.

"No, that's still too simple. It has to be hard earned. We can't just go about giving some violent brute a medal. Its a poor example. I say we give it to those who regularly overcome overwhelming obstacles whilst upholding the Thunderian values."

"That'll work." Panthro said.

"I'll send a messenger to get the Berbils to commission a few medals of honor tomorrow." "Now that I think about it, I did send Tygra there earlier today. He was supposed to ask them to begin work on a device that could prevent Mumm-Ra's powers from affecting us. I think he's too far along the road to intercept now, though. He did take one of the new Thundercycles, after all.

"Tsk." Cheetara winced. He'd struck a nerve, apparently.

"Anyway, onto the subject of New Thundera." Panthro interrupted Lion-O's thoughts once again.

"The Berbils are making good progress on the city, but its taking up a lot of our resources. Resources that we can use for the war instead."

"No. New Thundera is the future of our people. Its a place where those who've lost their homes can live in peace once again. We're not halting construction."

"Alright, alright. I get it. I'm just saying."

"But the soldiers are getting pretty fed up with sleeping on the thin piece of cloth you call a sleeping bag. Maybe you should set aside a small amount for them" Cheetara said.

"...You're right. They deserve some comfort at least. Add another line to the message telling the Berbils to process some cotton and make mattresses for our allies. "

"Got it. Now that I think about it, trunks huh? What about the elephants? Didn't they break the alliance between us last night?"

"Ah, whiskers. I forgot that they ditched us. I'll go to Elephant Village and try to-" "SIR!"A dog came running into the war room.

"What's the problem?"

"Sir, you're gonna want to see this." The Thunderrans ran out of the war room, to be greeted by the sight of a large group of elephants, with Anet and Aburn standing at the front.

"Anet? Aburn? Why are you-"

"Lion-O, it would seem that the decision we made last night was too hasty. I'm not sure what came over us, but we have come to renounce our renounciation of the alliance between Elephants and the Rebellion. Please accept our utmost apologies."

"Its not your fault. We believe that Mumm-Ra tried to manipulate us into giving up on the war."

"Even so, it would be unforgivable for us not to offer reparations for this **horrible** betrayal of trust. Anything you ask for, we will provide."

"No thanks, we couldn't take advantage of your kindness. What's done is done, and as long as we're back on good terms, that's all I need."

"As humble and noble as ever, young Lion-O. Thank you." Aburn raised his trunk and began trumpeting, followed by Anet and the other elephants. "Well, toodle-oo. The Elephants owe you a favor now. Come to us if you require our aid for anything whatsoever. The elephants began to walk back to their village, causing the ground to rumble in the process. Eventually, they got far enough that it died down.

"Looks like everything's back to normal." Lion-O said. "

Yeah, and now the elephants owe us one. I say we make them join us in the war effort!" Panthro proposed excitedly.

"No, they're a pacifist race and as useful as they would be in fighting against Mumm-Ra, the Thunderran Code specifically states that we have to be honorable and to fight in the name of justice. There is no justice or honor in forcing those peaceful giants to fight for us when they won't want to." Lion-O sternly said.

"Tsk." Panthro voiced his disapproval, turning around and crossing his arms once again.

Yep, everything really was back to the way it should be. As it had been for the past few years, at least. Things weren't the way they were before. And they could never be. The age of Thundera was over. But they would rebuild and bring back a glimpse of that shining, golden time. Until then, the war would go on. They would fight until their last breath. Until Mumm-Ra was beaten. Game on.


	2. Journey into the Black Pyramid

"What in Thundera is this?!" Lion-O yelled, interrupting the rhythmic synchronization of the Berbils as they continued to build, weld, drill and whatever it was that they were doing.

"Bill!" He roared. A small, brown furred robot bear came wobbling over. "Yes. Lion-O."

"This doesn't look anything like the blueprints we gave you! Explain this... this..." He looked back at the unaesthetic, gray hunk of machines and wires. A stark contrast from the beautiful, white marble buildings of the original. "How can you even call this... thing Thundera at all!"

"Yes. Ro-Bear Bill removed. Exterior shell."

"Why would you do that?" "Reactor. In anti-magic. Shield generator. Too powerful. For carbon-based. Material. Need. Nuclear-based. Energy."

"Well, there is one place that has the technology we need to get rid of the overheating problem." Panthro said, walking over to Lion-O. "And if we manage to pull it off, New Thundera would be a hundred times more advanced than the old one in more ways than one."

"I doubt there's any place more advanced than Avista, and that was reduced to rubble long ago along with the junkyard." "Think outside the box, Lion-O."

"...You don't mean-" "Yeah, Mumm-Ra's Black Pyramid. All the gizmos and tech that Mumm-Ra used to destroy planets and travel through the stars. In one hell of a dangerous triangle."

Panthro was right. Back when he first entered the Book of Omens and relived the memories of his predecessor, Leo, he did notice that the technologies inside Mumm-Ra's ship were lightyears beyond anything they currently had in this world. With the exception of the Power Stones, at least. But still, could they really take this risk? It was either they got the necessary machinery to make New Thundera far superior to what it could be with what they had to work with right now, or the Rebellion would lose a talented general and the other forces Panthro planned to take with him for this mission.

"...Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Do I ever joke around, kid? Either way, I've already drawn out the plans and schematics I'll need to break into the pyramid beforehand. So, are we going to get this started or what?"

Lion-O's eyes drifted to the ground. The idea was an impressive prospect, but.. "...No."

"No? What do you mean no?! This is the only way we can ensure that New Thundera won't fall like the original did."

"That's only if you manage to avoid being killed by Mumm-Ra! The Rebellion can't afford to lose another one of its leaders, Panthro!"

"I've been in there before. I got out with just a few scars."

"No." "But-" "That's an order from your king." Lion-O folded his arms unwaiveringly in front of Panthro, whose face was contorted into a violent snarl. "Is there a problem?"

"...Tsk. If you say so." He began to turn around, but was stopped by Lion-O's hand on his shoulder.

"Give me the schematics." "Grr.. Take them! Don't need the stupid things anyway." Panthro grabbed the schematics out of his toolbelt, tossing them in Lion-O's direction. He clenched his fist before turning away, walking back to the camp.

"...Ah, he'll get over it. Bill-" He turned to face the ground where the little Berbil was standing earlier, but now it was just an empty patch of dirt and grass. Lion-O spun around, attempting to catch a glimpse of the mechanized bear. "Where did he..." Come to think of it, the site didn't seem as populated as it was just moments ago. Maybe the workers needed a break? Do Berbils even take breaks? He shrugged. They probably went to refuel or something. Little did he realise, he had forgotten to pick up the fallen blueprints. Not that he would've found them even if he did remember to pick them up. They were far, far away by now.

Back at the campgrounds, a brown figure emerged from the nearby underbrush. It signaled backwards at its partners, causing the bush to rustle as the miniature bears stumbled out of the thicket.

Stealthily, they made their way past the dog guards. Not like they would've stopped them anyway. The presence of Berbils in the campground was a regularity at this point. There wouldn't be any suspicion towards the adorable mechs, but they had to ensure that nobody would stop them from undertaking this mission. Or they just wanted to act like spies.

The group hid behind random crates labelled "D. FOOD". They didn't understand this "Food" stuff that the organics liked to put in their bodies. When they tried their hand at "eating" this "food", it usually caused a short circuit and complete termination of processes.

One of the bots climbed on top of the crate, picking up some of the brown stuff inside the container. It looked like dirt. Maybe it was dirt. Perhaps organics required the minerals from soil to survive just like plant based lifeforms did. "Ro-Bear Ned. Get down. This is. a secret operation." The blue bear nodded, dropping its handful back into the crate.

Bill stuck its head out slightly beyond the edge of the tent. The word "Scanning" appeared across the top its vision along with yellow outlines of the surrounding organic lifeforms as the Berbil attempted to find Panthro.

"Dog. Dog. Dog. Fish. Fish. Dog. Thunderian." The heavily muscled, bald Thunderian in the utmost left tent had to be Panthro. "Possibility of target being Panthro: 98%. Go." Bill pointed in the tent's location before jumping back into the bushes with the rest of his fellow Berbils as a fishman walked past.

"Huh?!" The newly recruited guard turned back to the sound of rustling in the bushes. "Who goes there! Show yourself!" He demanded, walking over to the bush with his harpoon in hand. Carefully, he pushed the leaves to the side, ready for a lizardman to jump out at him. He clearly hadn't completely acquainted himself with the Berbils just yet.

"Oh, its just you guys. What in the name of Pose'ra are you doing? You had me scare- ready to annihilate you!" Inside the bush were a large amount of Berbils, all attempting to hide themselves by covering their eyes. Apparently they didn't know that just because they couldn't see didn't mean that others couldn't see them.

Bill spoke up. "We. Are on. A mission." The fishman raised one eyebrow. "Well, whatever. I don't get you little rascals anyway. Enjoy." He said, before releasing his grip on the leaves and letting the bush revert back to its normal state before returning to his patrol duties.

"Mission status: Discovered. Continue." Bill began making his way to Panthro's tent. He had a map of the entire campgrounds made along with the directions to Panthro's location in his programming already. The other berbils followed suit through the bushes, unnoticed by the guards. Or so they thought.

"Ah, its probably the berbils again. Little buggers always messing around in there." The dogs shrugged. At this point, they were completely used to the strange behaviour of the mechanized bears.

The band of spies jumped out of the shrubbery. According to Ro-Bear Bill, this was Panthro's approximate location. A sharp, scraping sound could be heard coming from the structure. "Panthro located." Bill gestured towards the tent, to which the other Berbils nodded at each other. "Enter. Furtively." He said in a quiet, yet still autonomous tone. One of the bears pulled out a small, black box.

Inside the tent, Panthro continued to grind an axe against a whetstone. The tool and Slowly scraping its edge against the grain. Not that it needed any maintenance, he just had to distract himself by doing something. Anything to get his mind off his disdain towards Lion-O's orders.

"Damn that Lion-O. The guy needs to grow a pair already. I'll show him how a real leader does things around here." He continued to mumble himself, completely oblivious to the presence of the Berbils behind him.

"There. Ready for action. Just gotta find a bunch of battle tested warriors that'll come with- Me?!" Something was poking him on his lower back. He turned around, prepared to swing his newly sharpened axe at the intruder. Only to be greeted by the sight of a dozen Berbils staring back at him.

"What the hell are you doing here?!" He yelled. "Ro-Bear Bill. Would. Like to. Help. Panthro. Berbils. Battle-tested. Warriors." Panthro slapped the top of his head, dragging it down his face slowly.

"Guhhh.. Look, I know you guys are a lot more useful than you look, but this is a serious mission. We aren't building machines, we're infiltrating the most fortified stronghold on Third Earth! So unless you know how to swing a mace around, get. Lost." He pointed at the tent's exit. "Ro-Bear. Come with. Panthro."

He gritted his teeth, just about ready to toss the annoying furballs out with his own hands. But how could he do that? After all, these guys did help him out a lot, and they were the ones who gave him his new arms. Plus, he was kind of fond of them and their ridiculous antics.

"I'm not gonna throw you outta here but you're not coming with me. Alright?"

"Ro-Bear. Come with. Panthro." He rolled his eyes, grabbing a rucksack filled with supplies he would need for the journey and necessary equipment/tools before leaving the tent.

A pair of blades swung in front of him, barring his way. "What the- Get the hell out of my way, soldier." He demanded. The pair of dogs stationed outside his tent looked at each other, probably trying to fight over who was going to tell this behemoth that he couldn't leave.

"S-Sir! Panthro, Sir. We have orders from Lion-O to stop you from undertaking your mission."

"Yeah?! And who said I was going on a mission? I'm just going for a walk. A nice, long walk."

"With your battleaxe?" "...Yeah. I need it to defend myself in case I'm ambushed. Now move it." He broke the halberd's handle with a pinch of his metal fingers, shoving the intimidated guards out of the way. "Panthro, enough." A voice ordered from beside him. "Ah, great."

Lion-O walked up to his longtime friend. "I know what you're trying to do, and I won't allow it. Its for your own good."

''What do you think I'm doing this for!? Its for the good of EVERYONE! This is a chance for us to finally get the upper hand over Mumm-Ra, and you're too much of a kitten to use this chance!"

Lion-O pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm not going to argue with you about this. My orders are for you to stay here, General Panthro. Are you going to disobey your king?"

Panthro turned to the side, refusing to look him in the eyes. "No."

"Good, then we agree. Get back inside. You'll be provided with whatever you need as long as there isn't any chance of it being used for escape."

"Tsk." Panthro turned around, walking back inside his workshop/tent.

"Some king. Why I oughta- GUEAH!" He yelled, shocked by the presence of the Berbils. "What the hell are you still doing here?!"

Bill looked up at Panthro. "Ro-Bear. Help. Panthro." The rest of the Berbils began to nod in agreement.

"Ugh. Annoying bastards. How are you going to help..me...?" One of the Berbils held up a black apparatus. The same one they used to get inside the tent without the guards even noticing.

"The hell is that supposed to do?" Panthro asked, having never seen such a device before. The Berbil ran its finger, at least what looked to be a finger down the sleek surface. As its finger slid down the device, Panthro noticed that he could see the tool cabinet through its body, before the bear and its surrounding companions completely disappeared.

"What the..." "New. Device. Turns. Invisible." Bill said nonchalantly as ever.

"How did... Ah whatever, just give it to me and I'll be on my way."

"Ro-Bear. Come with. Panthro."

"Ghhh... Fine, you can come with me. Only because you're blackmailing me though. Otherwise I'd leave you guys here to.. to do whatever it is you do."

The Berbils reappeared and began cheering, or rather just waving their arms around in the air silently. Apparently they hadn't quite gotten the concept of celebrating.

"Give me that." He grabbed the item away from the Berbil, examining it with his good eye. He fumbled around with it for a while, trying to figure out how to use it.

"How do I work this thing? There's no controls whatsoever!"

"Move. Finger. Down. Surface." Panthro edged his massive metal finger down the gadget. It barely fit on there. Clearly this was made for an average sized body, and Panthro's structure was far from average.

"There, now what?" He turned back to the Berbils, who were missing yet again. His eyes shifted from one side of the tent to another. Where had they gone now? "Success."

"It didn't do anyth- Oh." He looked down at his body. In the place of where his pecs were, there was a floor. He moved his arms in front of his face. Still nothing. An invisible, sly grin appeared over his face. "Lets get this party started."

The guards were unaware of Panthro's exit from the tent. He smirked as he walked past the unattentive soldiers. If they had just been a little more dedicated, they would have noticed the flaps moving to the side and realised that something shady was going on. He stood in front of one of them, crossing his arms.

"Useless mutts. I miss the disciplined warriors of Thundera. Now we have dogs in place of real fighters. What a joke." He frowned and muttered under his breath, quiet as could be before turning and beginning to walk away.

Not before one of the dogs said "Did you hear that?" He froze. How could he forget? A dog's hearing was almost if not as good as a cat's. The quiet badmouthing they usually did to other races couldn't be applied to these guys as well.

"Ah, crap." He thought to himself. Then again, these dog guards probably weren't smart enough to consider the possibility that he had a device that would cloak him from their sight.

*Sniff. Sniff* the dogs' noses began to twitch as they inhaled the air.

"General Panthro was in this spot a few seconds ago." the dog pointed at the ground in front of them.

"How's that possible? I didn't see him get out." "It shouldn't be possible, not with the two of us here. But just to be safe, I'll check if he's still inside." The other dog nodded, paw reaching out to push the tent's flaps to the side. Was he going to be found out?

A voice called out from inside the tent, stopping the dogs in their tracks.

"Get the hell out of. Here, soldier." The guards looked at each other. They really didn't want to mess around with Panthro right now. He was notorious for beating up guys who ticked him off, and even with Lion-O's protection they doubted he would care.

Panthro slapped his face. These guys were complete buffoons! It was incredibly obvious that the voice was synthesized. The tone didn't even match up. Well, whatever. As long as it worked in his favor, he didn't care much. Still, it was a harrowing thought that these were actual trained soldiers in the Rebellion.

Something tugged on his pants. He looked down. Nothing. A mechanical hand appeared out of thin air, fingers clasped around a pair of goggles.

"What, do I put these on?" He asked. No response. He carefully picked the goggles out of the hand, placing them over his bald head and pulled it down until it covered his eyes. Everything was green. He looked back down at the spot where the hand materialized. It was Bill.

"Of course its you. Well, lets get the hell outta here." Bill nodded, gesturing over to the Berbils surrounding his legs. "What the- Ugh. Lets just go."

Panthro made his way to the hangar containing the Thundertanks. While at one point the original was the group's most valuable asset, it had since been reverse engineered and recreated. The Berbils were incredible mechanics, probably even better than Panthro even if he wouldn't admit it. They were able to figure out the advanced machinery behind the original Thundertank and replicate it, adding a few minor upgrades to it.

As of right now, there were 6 Thundertanks in the Rebellion's arsenal. Only a few people knew how to use it, though. Much like Claudus, a large number of the soldiers in the Rebellion refused to break loose from the chains of tradition. Something Lion-O tried hard to change, to no avail.

He unbuckled one of the containers on his utility belt and pulled out an old Thunderan Insignia from when Thundera was still standing. Only the highest ranked members of the Rebellion had these. He put it up to a scanner, which emitted a red light.

"Access Denied." It said in a robotic voice. "What?! This hunk of...Oh." He raised his fist, just about ready to smash it in before he realised that he was invisible after all. The scanner probably couldn't detect his Insignia. "How do I turn this thing off?"

"Push. Top." His body regained its color, becoming opaque once again.

The hangar's reinforced steel doors rose upwards, revealing the magnificent, shining Thundertanks as sunlight beamed into the surrounding area.

"Feh. Looks like a hunk of junk." Panthro mumbled, walking past the gleaming white Thundertanks. He went over to a battle-scarred, rusty original in the corner.

" **Nothing** beats the original. I missed this bad girl." He said, patting the metal exterior. The Berbils looked at each other, visibly confused. The other tanks were clearly superior to the original. Both in aesthetics and sheer power.

Panthro took heed of this. "You metalheads won't ever understand this, but the history I've made together with this baby... Can't be duplicated. You can make a hundred tanks, but I'd take this one over all of them anyday."

Organics are weird. That was the conclusion they came to after hearing Panthro's prattle.

The tank's metal plating creaked and groaned under Panthro's bulk as he made his way into the cockpit. It wasn't as durable as it once was, especially after all the battles it had been through. How many times had he built it back up from the piles of scrap it was reduced to? Not like he kept track anyway.

"Aaah, home sweet home." Panthro sighed as he made himself comfortable in the still-soft chairs of the tank. "Well, we don't have all day. Get your shiny heinies in here. Heh." He laughed at his own joke.

The berbils began their attempt at climbing on, but the Thundertank was made for taller bipedals. Their bodies were far too short to be able to climb on without assistance . Panthro rolled his eyes and grunted. These guys were really getting on his nerves. It was an adorable sight, though. Watching the little fellas jump up and down as they tried their best to get on. He unwillingly got out of his comfort zone, jumping off the tank.

"There, now we're ready to roll. Not sure why I helped you pests up, actually." He said, gingerly placing the last Berbil inside the cockpit before getting in himself.

Moments later, a large group of guards along with Lion-O scrambled around outside the hangar bay. Panthro's absence had been discovered soon after his escape. When the guards finally entered the tent, suspicious of the repetitiveness of Panthro's words to them. Instead of the blue Thunderan they were expecting, a single Berbil stood inside.

"Get the hell out of. Here, soldier." It said

"Panthro! I know what you're trying to do. Get your blue hide out here right now!" Lion-O yelled. There was no response. Only silence. He nodded at the guards, who began surrounding the hangar. Then, there was the familiar roar of an engine. One that Lion-O knew far too well.

"MOVE!" He yelled, ducking to the side. The guards realised the situation as well, throwing themselves out of the Thundertank's way right as its bulk charged out of the building. Panthro laughed as he looked back at Lion-O, who was becoming more and more distant by the second. He saluted him with two fingers. His final act of defiance right before he grew out of view.

"Sir, should we pursue him?" Lion-O's eyes fixated on the direction where Panthro had driven off to. He frowned. "Whiskers. We won't catch up with him now. Just let him go. There's nothing we can do."

"I hope you know what you're doing, Panthro. Come back in one piece."

Days and nights would pass as the Thundertank traversed through multitudes of climates and environments. Only stopping for when Panthro finally decided he needed some rest or when they needed more Thundrillium, which they got from the now abandoned Cloud Peak Mine. Through plains, forests, wastelands, deserts, even the Ruins of Thundera at one point.

He would look fondly at the fallen city as he continued on, reminiscing over the legacy that lived on through him and its remaining survivors. "Good times."

The Berbils stared at the rubble through the glass. To them, it just seemed like a broken pile of junk. Their version of Thundera was clearly superior to this. Even if it lacked the "aesthetics" that the organics liked to talk about so much.

After becoming fed up with the slow progress they were making, he decided to let the Berbils drive instead of having to stop for hours whenever he went to get some shuteye. He would sleep while they covered more ground. Even throughout the night. At least they were far more competent than the dog soldiers, who had absolutely no clue on how to use this "monstrosity" and "a betrayal of all the history we hold dear." Ridiculous.

As he lay in the nice, dark interior of the Thundertank taking his much needed break, a sharp pain in his scarred eye woke him up. "GrAAH! Who-?!" Just one of the Berbils trying to wake him up the only way they knew how. By poking him. He should've known this would happen eventually and kept the goggles on.

"What the hell do you want?!" ''Reach." "Reach? Reach what?"

The Berbil gestured for him to follow it. "Ugh..." He got up, opening the hatch and climbing out. He squinted. It was morning already, and the sunlight's rays were ruthlessly attacking his one good eye. Far away, he could see a black triangle coming into focus. They had reached the outskirts of the Black Pyramid.

"Feh. Lizards and Monkians all over the damn place." Panthro mumbled as he looked through a pair of binoculars. Now that he thought about it, he hadn't really taken into account that there would be sentries watching for any possible intruders. Maybe it was a good thing that the Berbils came when they did.

"Bill, where's the cloaking device?" He said. Bill walked over, holding up the little black box. Panthro picked it out of his hand. "Alright, lets do this." He grinned delinquently, raising the device in front of his face.

Panthro silently made his way past the dozens, probably hundreds of guards. Mumm-Ra took no chances after all. The most fortified building on Third Earth (for now, at least) still needed additional security. He took extra care not to make any sound, still remembering the time he almost got caught by those dogs because he had to vocally mock them.

The Berbils on the other hand, didn't care much for stealth. Their limbs noisily thudded on the ground as opposed to Panthro's attempt at keeping this mission a covert one. His feet were on the verge of tip-toeing. Not like he would actually lower himself to doing something like that. After all, he was the epitome of power and pride. Somehow the soldiers didn't take notice at all.

Compared to these guys, the dogs were all-seeing owls.

"Could you keep it down?! You're going to get us killed here!" He loudly whispered towards the Berbils, just out of earshot of the guards. The thudding instantly stopped even though they were still moving. He grunted. If they could do that, why didn't they do it from the start?

The group continued to shuffle through the seemingly endless ocean of guards before they finally reached the Black Pyramid. They began to climb up towards where a vent was. The bent metal bars Panthro had made all those years ago were still there. He shuddered, remembering the last time he ventured inside. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to come back after all. Either way, they were too far in to back out at this point.

He stared into the dimly lit, eerie hallways of the lair, taking a deep breath and jumping in. The Berbils followed suit. There wasn't any going back now.

Panthro landed quietly in the enormous hallways of the Pyramid. "Heh, old cat's still got it." He grinned, only to be interrupted by a dozen berbils falling on top of his back.

The clanging of metal bodies as they collided with each other reverberated through the entire structure. Yet, it went completely unnoticed. Or rather, ignored.

"Did you hear that?" A lizard guard snapped to another. "Probably just Mumm-Ra smashing things again. You'll get used to it, rookie." The guard scratched his head, confused. "Shouldn't we go check it out?"

"Nah."

As they trudged through the inadequately maintained, dripping corridors, Panthro pulled a rolled-up paper out of a pouch on his belt and opened it up. A map of the Black Pyramid, one he made during his and Grune's advent inside.

"Darn, can't see anything on this thing." He turned behind. Maybe one of the Berbils had a built-in torchlight or something.

"You guys got some sorta-" Bill made a gesture of poking the side of his head, as if he knew what Panthro wanted. Panthro looked at him confusedly, before doing the same on his headgear. Everything turned greener. And brighter.

"Huh. I'm keeping this thing for good." Now he could see what was scribbled on the paper.

While it wasn't incredibly detailed, it had enough information to guide them towards where they needed to go. About 80 meters south of their current location. Although, there was something strange about the map.

He didn't remember why, but he had labelled an area with a red X. Eventually they would encounter that area, since it was along the escape path they would take after getting what they needed Pyramid's Armory. Still, he had no memory of what happened then. Didn't he promise to do something after he escaped? A sharp twinge of pain shot through his brain, causing him to clutch his head in agony and double over.

"Panthro. Alright?" Bill took notice of his behaviour and tugged on his belt, trying to get his attention. Panthro steeled himself. He'd been through much worse. It didn't mean that he was absolutely immune to discomfort though. He looked down at Bill, who was staring up at him. If Berbils were capable of making a concerned face, this would be it.

"Don't worry about it little guy. I'm fine. Just felt tired for a moment." He nudged Bill's hand off of him, continuing his descent into the Pyramid. Bill observed the Thunderan with his signature blank stare. Something was definitely wrong with him. Perhaps he had one of those organic viruses they called "disease".

"Take. Care. Of Panthro." He said to his fellow Berbils, who nodded. They were completely oblivious to a small silhouette dashing through the hall behind them.

A head poked out around the corner wall of an intersection. Along with another one at a much lower angle. And another. And another. He looked down. The Berbils were attempting to stack on top of each other, imitating his behaviour. He sighed. This mission wasn't going to be easy with them around.

He continued to survey the area. Two lizard guards were standing guard in the hallway they had to go through to get to the Armory. Guess that meant this was the right path, after all. Panthro signaled to the Berbils with two fingers, pointing in the direction of the guards. Or at least he tried to. When he looked down again, they were gone.

He turned back, trying to figure out where they had gone. The sound of metal clanging on the ground and quiet yelps attracted his gaze.

The Berbils waved back at him, standing on top of the unconscious lizards. Panthro's jaw gaped. He walked over to them. "How did- Ah, whatever. Lets just go." He walked past the bodies on the ground as the Berbils continued to wave in the air for a few moments.

He sighed, remembering the first time he had ventured into this place alongside Grune. When Grune betrayed Thundera and left him for dead in this place. Darkness. Running around, yelling, punching. The screeching of steel and rumbling of rock as he scrambled around the place. He shuddered. This was a place that he never thought he would want to come back to. But yet, here he was. He took a deep breath and continued into the darkness.

A group of guards lay unconscious on the ground behind Panthro. He kept his fighting sticks in their holster, dusting off his mechanical fists before beginning a wind-up. "Step aside." He said to the Berbils, who moved out of the way.

"HRRAH!" With a mighty roar, he struck the massive silver door with as much force as his fists could muster. While it did give off an impressive crash that emanated through the now mostly unguarded corridors, the door wasn't even scratched. In fact, his mechanical arm seemed to be much worse for wear now.

"What the hell is this thing made of?" He said. These fists could snap an oak in half with utmost ease. Yet it hadn't even given way in the slightest. A blue light began emitting from a Berbil's eye onto the material.

"...Scan complete. Substance. Matches. Mythril." A metal that resembled silver, yet was multiple times more durable than steel. Of course it was Mythril. The one thing in the entire world that he couldn't break with his fists. Guess that meant he had to break the far less durable wall beside it, then.

His arm pierced through the wall, tearing a large hole open in it as if the 5'' thick steel were made of paper. He put one foot in, attempting to fit his huge figure through the gash.

"Look at this place..." He said, gazing upon the palatial hordes of futuristic tech, dimly lit by torches that seemed to have been there for milennia. Strangely shaped weapons lined the walls neatly, with the larger vehicles and ships being stationed in the center. There were even a few Thundertanks in there.

Pedestals containing magical ornaments and other machinery were neatly organized around the room. But they didn't come here for any of this. They just needed a Fusion Core.

Panthro surveyed the massive room. There was no way that they could spot out what they needed. It was like finding a needle in a haystack. Maybe... "I don't suppose you have any weird widget that can find the fusion core, do you?" The Berbils shook their heads.

"Guuhh..." He scratched his head. "Time to get to searching, then." He began his ascent to one of the upper floors in hopes of finding it from a vantage point. A tapping on his leg stopped him from going further. He turned around. A Berbil held up a small, transparent container. In its center was a bright energy core.

"Is that...? How did... You know what, I give up. I don't know how you guys keep doing it, but as long as it helps me. Now give me that." The Berbil pulled back its hand. Panthro stared at it, confused.

"Say. The Magic. Word." He frowned. These bears were really getting on his nerves.

"Pleaseee..." He said, incredibly annoyed at this point. The Berbil reached out again. Panthro picked the core out of its hand and put it in a lead container on his belt. "Alright, lets get the hell outta here."

Bill poked his head out of the hole left behind by Panthro. "All clear." He said, gesturing for the rest of the group to come. Panthro slowly squeezed through the hole, followed by the other Berbils. He signaled for them to go left towards the escape route before running off.

As he continued making his way through the corridor, he noticed two massive Monkians standing guard in front of something. "There it is. The 'Forbidden Zone'." Panthro whispered under his breath. Yet another heavily reinforced Mythril door just a few feet away from them denied their entry.

Evidently, there was something important inside. It wasn't what they needed, but it piqued his curiosity. So he was going to have to sate it. He turned to the Berbils. "Lets knock these morons out before we figure out how to get in there." Heavy footsteps echoed around in the dark. He gestured for the Berbils to hide, ducking behind a pillar as well.

A clawed foot stepped out into the dim lights, revealing the source of the footsteps to be Kaynar. This wasn't a fight that they wanted, not right now at least. If it were just a regular soldier Panthro would've massacred him already. But Kaynar was far too tough an opponent to do battle with under these circumstances.

"Hrmmm..." He said, sniffing the air deeper and deeper as he walked past the guards. He paused, head spinning towards them. He stared at them with bloodshot eyes. The Monkians were visibly frightened. Kaynar's brutal reputation had spread across Third Earth. Even his own underlings feared him greatly.

"Have you... been eating well?" He asked. "Uh... Yes?" "Good, good. Very good. After all, we can't have our soldiers going hungry now, can we?"

"...Yes sir?" "And if you can't go hungry, should I, a general of Mumm-Ra's legions feel it instead?" He squinted, grinning. "No sir."

His hand shot out, slamming the Monkian's throat against the door. "Tell me, why do I smell such delicious food here? Food that you didn't share with me?!" He growled.

"I-I don't k-know what y-you're talking about, ssssir." The guard struggled to speak, attempting to free his throat from Kaynar's grasp.

"There's an oh-so familiar scent in the air. The smell of fooood."

"I..Haven't...Eaten... A-anytthhingg..." The Monkian's face started to swell up as its blood flow was being cut off.

"So you're a liar, then? You said you had eaten well. It seems that we can't trust you after all." He laughed maniacally. "We don't need liars like YOU in our ranks!" He declared, claws digging into his throat as he tore out the guard's windpipe.

Panthro looked away as crimson began spurting out from the Monkian's throat, splattering across the surrounding area. He gargled blood momentarily before slumping over, dead. The other guard looked on with a horrified expression plastered over his face. Kaynar's eyes fell upon him next.

"Heh. Aha... AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Ha... What about you? Have you eaten yet?''

"N-no!" "Good, good. Take this." He said, tossing the chunk of flesh he ripped out of the Monkian's throat at him. It hit him in the face, sliding down before he peeled it off. "Much appreciated, sir!" He exclaimed. He didn't want to make the fiend angry by not feigning gratitude.

"Very polite. I like that. Well, I'm going to get some grub now. Oops! Looks like I already have it here. Hahahaha! Well, toodle-oo." The guard saluted him, hand still clutching the organ. Kaynar picked up the corpse, dragging it along the ground and leaving a trail of blood along the way.

"Hmmm... Still smell that delicious smell. Like a wet cat... Oh well!" He scratched his chin momentarily before continuing on his way.

Not even Panthro's battle scarred psyche could stand the gruesome sight. He silently gagged as the insane jackal hauled the body away. Towards where... where they had done in the guards. Ah crap. There were two options now. Either they could try to take him out and possibly alert Mumm-Ra, or they could rush over to the exit and get out. His head snapped back towards the sound of cackling echoing through the corridor.

"Gahahahahahaha!" He couldn't quite make out what was being said, but it was something about feasting tonight. "What a nutjob.." He grunted, turning back towards the door. The remaining guard was gone, likely having abandoned his post (and presumably Mumm-Ra as well.) After what just happened, who could blame him?

"Well, that makes things easier." Panthro said, walking over to the door while taking care not to step on the bloody remains of the guard. He gestured over to the Berbils to come out of hiding.

Actually, where were they? He looked around. Completely gone. "Where the hell-" A whirring noise came from the door. He stumbled backwards, foot plummeting down upon the puddle and causing a splash.

Right now, it didn't matter to him. He was ready to defend himself from whatever came out from the place. The noise stopped. Slowly, the enormous door began to slide to the side, revealing Bill standing behind it.

Of course it was Bill. "How did..." He sighed. Something like this should've been expected. He walked inside and looked around. The interior was lit up by a ghastly green, emitted from large metal tubes filled with a green liquid. Somehow he felt like he had been here before.

"The hell is this place?" Panthro said, going in further and noticing that there were control panels stuck to each of the tubes. He couldn't decipher the ancient-looking language etched into the keys, though. As he examined the tubes, something fell on his head. Something hairy. "WARGH!" He yelled, pulling it off of his head and throwing it onto the ground.

A pair of yellow-green eyes on the ground looked up at him. It belonged to an odd, brown furry and scaled creature. Panthro had seen something like this somewhere... its gaze was all too familiar. "What in the... Snarf?! The hell are you doing here!? Wait a minute..." The tiny creature looked around, confused. It couldn't see the still cloaked Panthro and the Berbils.

He had an odd feeling about the small animal that followed Lion-O around constantly, but he couldn't figure out what it was. Yes... He had made a promise. A promise to come back, didn't he? He turned the device off and picked the critter off the ground. It seemed oddly ecstatic to see him. He stared into its eyes. "Panthro! You returned for us!" It squealed.

"GYUAH!" He yelled, reeling back in shock. He wasn't expecting it to be able to talk. Somehow he managed to keep his grip on the creature steady. A long-forgotten memory made its way into his head. He knew this thing, didn't he?.

"...Wait, you're...!" He clutched his head, squinting. Memories came flooding back. Of the time he was trapped in the Pyramid. How he noticed a green light in the distance and ran over to the source - this room. He had pried open one of the canisters and found the little rodent inside. Immediately he knew that this was one of Snarf's species. The only difference was that it knew how to speak.

It told him of how his kind had been enslaved long ago by Mumm-Ra, stolen off their beautiful forest-clad planet due to their speech capabilities, one that any organic being could understand. As long as they could hear, at least. They were used to indoctrinate new servants and species into Mumm-Ra's army. Once he had decided that his army had enough breeds of beast in it, he preserved a small percentage of them in these tubes and killed off the rest.

Somehow, a few of them had managed to escape the ship through a pod during Leo's revolt against Mumm-Ra. The Snarf that accompanied Lion-O was likely a mere child, less than 200 of Third Earth's years old. "Snarfer" as he called it would later reveal to him a way out of the Pyramid, but what happened afterwards?

"Snarfer?! He yelled, shocked at the revelation he had just made. "Yeah Panthro?!" It grinned.

"I-I made a promise..." "Yeah! And here you are! You came back for us!" "No, I-... Its been almost 6 years since I was last here. I forgot the promise I made to you a long time ago."

Snarfer tilted its head to the side. "6... Years? But you're here now! That's all that matters." A sense of guilt washed over him. He had betrayed Snarfer's trust and yet here he was, not giving a damn. Still so optimistic. That was something he hadn't seen in quite a while.

Panthro considered hugging the Snarf for a moment, but decided against it. After all, he was the epitome of pride and masculinity.

"...I'm just glad you're alright. Now I'm gonna finally fulfill that promise I made and get all of you the hell out of here." The Berbils waved their arms in the air to celebrate the reunion of the two.

Snarfer took notice of this and began waving his own limbs in the air. Adorable to the point that it was sickly sweet. He turned away with a deadpan look on his face, unable to bear the embarrassing sight any longer. "...Lets just go."

He began smashing through the rest of the canisters. Only the ones that he was told contained Snarfs, though. The rest of the creatures would be too much of a liability if he attempted to help all of them escape. If it were Lion-O, he would've did his best to get each and every one of them out of the Pyramid.

But Panthro wasn't like Lion-O. He was a true soldier, not bound by empathy. Unless it was for the Snarfs, though. He had to repay the kindness they had shown him all those years ago, no matter how late he was.

Immediately upon their release, the Snarfs began chattering and embracing each other. Old friends, probably. There were a total of five of them. Along with the seven Berbils and himself, that made 13.

"Enough with the chit-chat. We've got to hurry up before someone catches us.

"Well, how are we gonna get out?" "The same way I got out last time."

The bright smile on Snarfer's face turned into a look of despair. "Wh-What do you mean?"

"We're going to use the same escape route I used to get out." Panthro was starting to worry at this point. Was there something else he had forgotten? Now that he thought about it, he couldn't remember anything about the "escape route" he had marked on the map.

"One of us needs to stay behind to launch the escape pods."

Now he remembered. He had gotten out of the pyramid through an old escape pod. Snarfer had to stay behind to launch his pod outside. He had remained in the Pyramid for all these years, waiting and waiting for him to come back and free his fellow Snarfs. After all, he was too weak to break open the tubes himself. And with Mumm-Ra's forces active once again, there wasn't much he could do besides hide and wait for Panthro to fulfill his promise.

Tears began to well up in Snarfer's eyes "I thought we were gonn-gonna leave today..." He said, sniffing.

Panthro's stomach twisted into a knot. They weren't going to be able to get out of the pyramid unless... "No!" He exclaimed. "We're going to find another way outta here. I promise you. And this time, I'm going to keep that promise."

"R-Rweally?'' "Yeah." A wistful, crooked smile appeared across its face. At least he had cheered it up, even if just a little. Now, the real struggle was keeping his hopes up.

He turned to the Berbils and the other Snarfs. "Alright, new plan. We're going to cloak ourselves and try to get out by the main entrance. Got it?" The Snarfs stared at him blankly while the Berbils nodded. Of course, they hadn't experienced the cloaking device yet. "Well, here goes."

He swiped his finger down the device. Nothing happened. He did it again. And again. "What the!?" "Device. Out of. Power." Bill said. "Great. Now how are we supposed to-" He was interrupted by a gasp coming from outside.

A lone lizard guard, noticing the green light coming from a hole in the wall had come over to investigate. Immediately, he began to cry for backup, before Panthro charged over and pummeled his head into the ground. But it was too late. The group of engineers who designed the Black Pyramid made no effort in making it anechoic. Mumm-Ra made this clear to every single one of his soldiers each day. Whether it was cackling maniacally to himself or during his fits of rage after losses to the Rebellion.

Panthro wasn't one of Mumm-Ra's soldiers, though. He didn't expect the Lizard's scream to echo around the perimeters, attracting the attention of Mumm-Ra himself.

No time was wasted as sirens began to sound around the Pyramid. A red, blinking light filled the room as every single guard in the vicinity was alerted to their presence inside the fortress. Soon, they would be surrounded. They had to move as soon as they could.

"What are you waiting for?! Go!" He yelled to the Berbils and the shocked Snarfs, who had to muster their courage before joining Panthro and the Berbils in their dash for freedom.

"This way!" A guard shouted to the rest of his comrades, not prepared for Panthro's enormous bulk to emerge from a corner and slam them into the walls as he continued his stampede through the Pyramid's corridors. The Berbils struggled to clamber over the fallen guards while the Snarfs, as agile as ever leapt over them.

No time could be wasted. Panthro took heed of the Berbils' struggle, dashing back and tossing them onto his back. "Hold on little guys!" Bill nodded, metal fingers clamping down on Panthro's tunic. He continued his blitz ahead as the Berbils fought to keep their grip on him.

Panthro knew that he had to put in all the effort he could to get out of this deathtrap. If the floor weren't made of metal, each footstep he made could've probably smashed a crater into it.

The sound of Panthro's heavy grunting and powerful strides echoed through the Pyramid. Any guard that was sent to stop him ceased moving out of instinct and fear. This Thunderan general was ready to annihilate anything that would try to stop him from carrying out his missions. "We're almost there! Just a few more..."

He turned another corner, stopping in his tracks. In front of him was a large room full of the dozens upon dozens of empty silos. Only two actually contained pods, though. Mumm-Ra probably didn't bother replacing the supply, since the spaceship had long been converted into a grounded fortress. The distant sound of running and yells echoed through the halls. No doubt that Mumm-Ra's forces would be upon them soon.

"Bill, you got any way to launch these things on a timer or something?" Bill nodded. Panthro smirked. Of course the Berbils had some weird gizmo to do this with. They had one for every situation, didn't they?

"Well get it running! I'll buy you some time!" He reached into his belt and pulled out a metal ball with a button on it, tossing it into the corridor. The Monkians and lizards stopped immediately upon hearing a clink in the darkness. A ball rolled out into the light. They stared at it momentarily before continuing towards the escape pods. They were blown apart as the ball detonated.

The Snarfs flinched as they heard the explosion, followed by the pained cries of the injured. "Get in!" He yelled at the frozen Snarfs, who ran down the stairs and joined the Berbils inside the pod. Panthro looked inside. Everyone was there except for...

"Bill?!" He turned to face Bill, who stood behind the control panel. ''What are you doing?! Get in here!" "Ro-Bear Bill. Will launch pods." "That's what you meant?! You cant- We'll find another way!" Bill looked at him nonchalantly. "Ro-Bear Bill. Will launch pods. Go."

There wasn't any time for them to come up with another idea. Mumm-Ra's forces would burst into the chamber at any moment. Panthro turned away to hide the tears welling up in his eyes, before deciding that Bill was worthy of seeing him in this.. Emotional state. He faced Bill, standing tall, and saluted him. Bill waved one of his arms in the air. This was probably the last time Panthro would ever see the strange celebratory dance Bill liked to do.

He regretfully turned and threw himself into the pod. It was just like this when Snarfer stayed behind to ensure that Panthro would escape, too. He continued to stare at Bill through the pod's window. Even as Addicus and the rest of Mumm-Ra's fodder ran into the room, Bill continued to wave at Panthro.

His body was pulled downwards by the inertia as the pod flew out of the Pyramid, sparing him from the sight of Bill being torn to pieces by the soldiers' bayonets.

The set of pods shot out of the Pyramid, soaring through the clouds for what seemed to be hours before landing in a nearby forest, crashing through the canopy, through the tree trunks and branches before finally landing on the ground. A hatch popped open and the Berbils emerged unscathed. The pods were designed to withstand landings from the atmosphere. A few kilometers was nothing to them.

Panthro clutched his head inside the pod and retched, throwing open the hatch and vomiting onto the ground behind the pod. He still wasn't used to being up in the air. On the other hand, the Snarfs seemed to have enjoyed the ride as if it were a roller coaster. They giggled at each other like little children, jumping up and down.

Panthro gritted his teeth. These vermin, still so annoyingly happy even after what just happened. His eyes were about to pop out of their sockets as his arms lay on the pod."Enough!" Panthro slammed his arm down on the pod, denting it. It wasn't enough. The fires of rage still burned within him.

"rrRRRAGH!" His fists gored through the thick metal layers of the pod over and over again, ripping the sturdy material apart as he let out all his frustration on it. The pod was reduced to scraps in no time. Still, his anger hadn't been sated.

"Panthro." He turned around, mouth almost foaming at this point. He stared at Snarfer with bloodshot eyes as he hugged his leg. "I'm sorry."

"Wha..?" "If you hadn't come back to rescue us, then Bill would've been alive right now." Bill... He sighed.

"Look, I didn't come here to rescue you, alright? I came here because I thought it was a good idea. I stole a tank from my king, came here and now Bill's gone. DEAD! Alright?!" Snarfer looked up at him, on the verge of tears.

"...Now leave me alone, I'm going back to the Thundertank. Back to camp. Otherwise, this mission was for nothing. And Bill died for nothing." He stomped away, leaving the Berbils and Snarfs behind.

Metal fingers poked through the thick bushes, pushing them to the sides as Panthro maneuvered through the forest. He didn't know where he was going. He had a compass and the direction of the Thundertank, but he wasn't thinking about that right now. All he could think about was hoping that Bill had found a way to get out, surprise him like he did so many times. All those impossible things that Bill did inside the Pyramid. Surely he could do it again, right? He had managed to escape, right?! " **RIGHT**?!" Panthro yelled into the sky.

Nothing. Nothing but the empty squawking of birds as they flew off, startled by the ferocity of Panthro's voice. He stared upwards at the trees. At the branches. At the leaves. At the beams of light shining through the thick canopy. Maybe, maybe if he looked away for a moment, Bill would appear and poke him on his thigh as he always did. He closed his eyes.

"Bill?!" He yelled, ecstatically looking down at the source of the tugging on his trousers. A stumpy, blue Berbil. He frowned. "The hell do you want?" "Ro-Bear Bill. Gone. Panthro. Still alive. What. Ro-Bear Bill. Wanted."

"Yeah? Well, that wasn't what I wanted." He knocked the Berbil's arm off and stared at it. It resembled Bill in a way. Maybe his spirit still lived on in these things, if robots even had spirits in the first place. Either way, Bill gave his life so that Panthro could fulfill his mission. How could he betray him like that? "You know what?" Panthro collected himself and sighed. "Alright, lets go back home." He grinned. The Berbil began waving its arms in the air.

"We can't just assume that they didn't make it! The Black Pyramid is on the other side of the planet. He probably took days just to make it there and who knows, he's probably still on his way back after evading Mumm-Ra." Cheetara yelled.

"We have to assume the worst. Its been weeks since Panthro took it upon himself to infiltrate the Pyramid. For all we know, he could've gotten in over his head, and-"

"Sir!" A soldier burst into the war room, causing Snarf to jump off of Lion-O's shoulder in shock. "What is it?" Lion-O asked. "You're gonna want to see this." The dog said, getting out of the tent and moving to the side to make way for Panthro.

"Panthro!" Cheetara yelled, running over to the blue giant and hugging him. Tygra frowned and folded his arms to voice his disapproval. Nonetheless, he was happy to see him. "We thought you were gone!" Lion-O said.

"Gonna take a lot more than just one stupid Pyramid to take me down. I told you before, didn't I? I got in once, I'll get out again." Panthro said, smirking.

"Well, I'm just glad you're safe, old friend. I'll forgive the fact that you went against my orders among other things."

"Tch. Panthro, ignore him. We're all happy to see you."

"Did you get the Fusion Core?" Tygra asked.

Panthro plucked the lead container off his belt and tossed it onto the table. "How's that for a Fusion Core? How about you trust me the next time I tell you I'll be fine?"

A small figure poked its head into the tent, catching the attention of Snarf. Snarf leapt off the shelf, slowly crawling over to the creature that strangely resembled him in every way until their noses were almost touching. "Mrroow?" "Looks like he's still a youngling. Nobody's even taught him how to talk yet." Snarfer said.

Lion-O's jaw gaped. "That other Snarf... He can talk?"

"Yeah, turns out that there's a whole bunch of other Snarfs out there. Met em on Mumm-Ra's ship. They're the reason I got out the first time."

"How did you get out this time?" Tygra asked with an eyebrow raised. Panthro looked at the ground and rubbed his head. "Its... Its a long story."


	3. Vengeance

The Swamp of Serpents, home of the lizardmen. What once was a thriving, dense forest of trees and mud and filth, full of incessant banter and noise as its inhabitants messed around and had petty squabbles with rival clans and each other in this disgustingly beautiful place.

To them, at least. Now, there was nobody. Only the soft chirping of a cricket in the grass broke the unending silence that came in place of chatter.

Every lizard had abandoned their ancestors' home to join Mumm-Ra's forces, never returning to bask in the glory of their birthplace. Save for one. A scaly foot came down upon the cricket, crushing it deep into the viscous mud.

Slithe looked down at the insect, now a green stain in the mud. "Heh." He chuckled, continuing to trudge slowly through the mucky ground on his journey through his now former home. Memories came flooding back as he breathed in the humid, muddy air.

All of a sudden, he wasn't a general in Mumm-Ra's army any longer. He was a fresh hatchling, being pulled out of the remains of his cracked shell and into a warm embrace as a large, scarred lizard watched on with arms folded.

The first of a clutch of eggs. "I'll call you... **Slithe**. _Slithe. Slithe. Slithe. Slithe._ " His name echoed throughout the inner mechanisms of his mind.

* * *

Now, he was a child. Running around the swamp, playing hide and seek with his brothers and sisters. He turned a corner, around a tree and behind a rock. "Found you!" He yelled, poking his sister on the back. "No fair!" She would say. And yet, she always picked the same spot.

"Dinner's ready, runts!" His father yelled, ending the game. All seven of his siblings came out of hiding. Out of trees, rivers, rocks, even popping their heads out of heaps of mud as they ran over to the tent, to be greeted with the sight of piles and piles of insects. The group of lizards almost instantaneously began ravenously devouring the bugs.

"Hey, what about me?!" Slithe yelled to no avail. A hand reached out and tapped on his shoulder. He turned around and saw his mother, who had something hidden behind her back. "Shhh." She shushed, signalling him to open his palm, which he did.

She placed a large, brown roach in his hand. His favorite. He smiled as she pat him on the head. Always doting on him despite him being the smallest of her children.

* * *

He was a teenager, ready to join his male family in his first skirmish. His father slapped him on the back, almost causing him to drop his stone spear. "How about it, runt? Today you'll be part of the historic battle that'll take down those damn cats once and for all!" He said, laughing.

"Heh, yeah.." Slithe chuckled awkwardly. Each time before this, his father had said the same thing to him. And each time, he came back. Badly injured. Badly defeated with new scars to appear later on. "Next time we'll get em." Only this time, there was no next time.

* * *

He was lying in the dirt, crippled and helpless. The battle had gone completely one sided. The Thunderans continued to push forward, slaughtering more and more of his people. The lizards' cries of pain and for help was a stark contrast to the cheering of the Thunderans.

It was over. But the killing continued. Hundreds and hundreds of his fellow lizards fell as the Thunderans stormed through their lines with superior skills and equipment. Blood covered the battlefield. Slithe had seen each and every one of his brothers' deaths. All in vain, unable to even scratch the cats before they were butchered.

An oh so familiar voice shot through his ear. Slithe turned his head slowly and painfully towards its location, only to see his very father, bloody, wounded and pinned down by a bearded, orange cat.

He made a futile attempt to stab the Thunderan with a dagger, but had his forearm swiftly removed. He let out a final battlecry before being silenced forevermore by the Thunderan's sword piercing through his throat, causing blood to spurt out as he ceased to move. Weakly, Slithe managed to mouth a silent "No."

Then, the grey-eyed cat would continue on his massacre, jumping off his dead father as if he were no more than an insect to him. Countless more of his fellow lizards fell to this cat's blade, stabbed through the back as they ran, their limbs sliced off and bones broken before he finally put them out of their misery.

More and more and more. Each second he watched the cat felt like an eternity to him. The coals of vengeance burned deep inside him, and yet... He couldn't do anything. He was helpless.

It would be days before he managed to muster the strength and energy to limp back home. Every step he made was like having hot iron nails pierced through his flesh. He gritted his teeth and nonetheless, he continued on. For now, he was the only one who could defend his family from the Thunderans.

He was close now. He could feel it. That strange feeling in his body, as if it were immensely hot. Sweat trickled down his head as he got closer and closer to the swamp.

The sound of reeds breaking under his foot stopped him in his tracks. He looked down. A woven basket. The one his family used to serve food at the table. His head shot upwards and his eyes widened. Could it be?

"No... NO!" He yelled, trying to run over to his home. But his legs failed him. He stumbled and wobbled as he descended through the thick vines and brush. Finally, he fell through the wall of plants and into a clearing.

A red hue emitted from his eyes as the fire covering the entire tribal grounds reflected off his eyes. The eggs were broken. Spears stuck out of the bodies of children and the female lizards who had stayed behind to take care of them. They all lay on the ground, motionless and covered in blood.

He crawled desparately over to a bloody corpse, grasping the figure he knew all too well over despite his crippled arm. Three arrows stuck out of her back. He winced as he turned her body over, silently hoping that it wasn't her. And yet, it was.

He gritted his teeth, tears streaming down his face and veins nearly popping out of his scales as the fury within him raged on, only held back by broken bones and useless limbs. Still, he managed one last act of defiance. To ram his fractured fist into the ground and cry out into the burning sky.

Fate wasn't completely pitted against him, though. For years later he would stand high above a crowd of cheering lizardmen, the clan banners of old having been cast off and replaced with a single, unified banner under his leadership.

While he still didn't have the resources or knowledge to defeat the Thunderans, their combined military might was now far superior to the failed set of clans ten years ago.

It wouldn't be until another decade before he was given a true chance to seek the revenge he had craved for so long. It came in the form of a simple message in the middle of the night, deep within his psyche.

* * *

Slithe stirred in his sleep, eyelids twitching as sweat made its way down his neck. A storm brewed in the Swamp of Serpents. Drops of water trickled down the roof of the hut slowly, coalescing into the muddy water until the full force of the rain came pouring down.

Unknown to him, purple lights streaked across the night sky, heralding the arrival of a new age. An age of terror and war wrought by a being thought to be long sealed away..

Throughout the ages, he had been searching for beings such as Slithe. Easily manipulated, craving the strength to rule. The strength for vengeance. Even strength just for the sake of having it. All fell under his influence and he would be no exception.

"Slithe..." An eyelid shot open. He grabbed a scimitar from under his bed and leapt upwards, ready to slaughter the intruder in his quarters. His eyes scanned the area. Nothing seemed out of place. But what was that sound? "The fool who would wish to die, show yourself!" He shouted, confused.

The air grew cold. If he had hairs on his body, they would be standing up right now. Chills ran down his spine as he anticipated the appearance of an antediluvian entity. "You..." The word echoed in the air around him. Louder. Louder. His grip grew tighter around his blade as he prepared for battle. "YOU..."

"?!" Slithe grunted, gritting his teeth. "You...would insult...?"

Black lightning struck the ground outside of Slithe's hut. His arms began to quiver, visibly shaken. But still, he wasn't the same coward he was all those years ago. He was a leader now. One who wouldn't find death before he obtained his vengeance. He threw open the wooden door and rushed into the rain.

A hooded figure stood still in the middle of the campgrounds, face concealed from the flames as purple lightning continuously rained down around the area, scorching the ground. The earth itself rumbled, cracked and groaned beneath his feet.

"Who are you?!" Slithe yelled, grasping his scimitar with one hand as the other blocked the raging winds gushing past his face. At this point, the entirety of the lizards had been woken up and watched on as the being continued to ravage the swamp with his magics.

The figure raised his head ever so slightly, just enough for the flashes of thunder to reveal a glimpse of his wrinkled face, the bandages that were wrapped around his skull as if he had emerged from a sarcophagus. His blood red pupils that appeared to be mere orbs floating in empty sockets flashed about as the storm ceased.

This creature was powerful. The pitch black aura that he gave off, as if countless tortured souls were evaporating off his body was enough to convince him of that.

Murmurs filled the air as it made its way towards Slithe. It stopped in its tracks all of a sudden, raising its cloaked head before it spoke. His gravelly voice boomed and echoed around the swamp. "You are but specks of dust beneath my fingernails. You have insulted powers beyond your **comprehension**."

But Slithe would not cower in fear from upstart sorcerers. Undeterred, he asked "I will ask one more time. Who. Are you?"

The hooded being cackled wildly, as if the mere notion that something so beneath him would dare demand from him was a joke.

"...In the past, there was no fool who dared forget I. Yet, it would seem that I have much work to do in order to restore my name. I say this once, and you will know it to be true. I am Mumm-Ra."

A hushed murmur swept through amongst the lizards as the identity of the sorceror before them was revealed. Clearly, Third Earth and its inhabitants had yet to forget who he was despite the countless years his presence had been unseen for.

Their forefathers' forefathers had passed the story down throughout each and every generation. Of Mumm-Ra, the ever-living. He who had subjugated and destroyed countless worlds and species alike. He who had terrorized the universe for countless millenia, and he who had been sealed for countless millenia.

Slithe's eyes widened. His breathing grew erratic. His lips parted slightly as a bolt of fear spread through his body. Instinctively he knew that this was no lie. "Mumm-Ra..."

He shook his head, sweat flicking off his skin. His already harsh grip on his sword tightened even further as he steeled himself, digging his feet into the mud and preparing to charge.

"I don't care who you are. YOU WILL NOT-!"

Mumm-Ra raised a single hand, palm facing towards him. Either to cast a devastating spell, or to signal a momentary pause. Either way, Slithe froze in his tracks.

His wrinkled forehead grew into a frown. A menacing grin spread across his face, revealing sharp, yellow teeth as his pupils fixated on Slithe.

"I could end your pathetic lives with a single flick of my wrist. It wouldn't even take me a single second to burn down your precious home." The lizards around him began to step back. All of them knew that he was truly capable of such a feat.

The ever-so crimson eyes of Mumm-Ra darted around the swamp, scouting the area. Perfect. These were cowards. They would be easy to control. But sometimes, those who feared nothing were far simpler to make use of.

"But, that is not what I have arrived for." He raised his arm. "No, I come... with a proposition."

"...What kind of proposition?"

"Tell me, what is it that you desire most?" He whispered. Slithe frowned, eyes shifting to the side as memories began to flood back. "..."

Mumm-Ra laughed. "I can see it in your heart. You crave power. Desire it. You want power so bad that you would sacrifice every single one of these fools around you to obtain it. And yet, you are weak. Too weak to save your parents, too weak to wreak vengeance upon the ones who killed them."

Slithe gritted his teeth. He grabbed his scimitar and ran towards Mumm-Ra, pointing its edge directly at his throat.

The lizards began to cry out in disapproval and worry. "Chieftan!" "You can't!" "Mumm-Ra is the most powerful being in the universe!" "No!"

He looked around the yelling lizards around him, before shutting them out and staring directly into the crimson pupils of Mumm-Ra.

"You.. You know nothing."

"I know that you are more intelligent than these cretins. My proposal is very simple. Join me, and I will give you the power you need to destroy Leo's wretched spawn. Do we have a deal?"

Slithe pondered over this... opportunity. On one hand, Mumm-Ra could not be trusted. Perhaps he and his kind would be subjugated to being slaves. Or.. Mumm-Ra would follow through with his promise and grant him what he craved so much. The power to destroy the bearded cat. And his entire species. Yes...

He began to lower his blade. "Will you join me? Or will you die? Speak plainly."

The Lizard Chieftan dropped his scimitar and began to lower his knee before him. "...I-.. We, will join you."

* * *

A single, clawed finger ran down a braille board laying atop a wooden desk. The room was dimly lit by only a single candle, for Lynx-O needed no light. The Thunderan General had been blinded in combat decades prior. The candle was merely there for the sake of visitors' convenience.

He leaned backwards in his chair and sighed heavily through his nose, rustling his mustache in the process. His eyelids began to droop down over his gray eyes. How boring. A general should be in the front lines of combat, **not** being relayed to the position of paper pusher.

Perhaps he shouldn't have accepted the position of General in Thundera's army.

"...It would be for the best if the lizards chose to attack us sometime soon." He sighed once again, reminiscing over his glory days.

Back when he was a mere captain in the army. Fighting his way through hordes and hordes of foolhardy lizards. The feeling of his blade as it sliced through bone and flesh alike. While gruesome, the thrill of battle was what truly made him feel alive.

And yet, here he was. Not having seen any combat for the past four years. It hadn't been long since he was anointed as General, but paperwork wasn't nearly as thrilling as fighting was.

Work, work work. No hands-on duty, no. Just issuing commands and signing his name on worthless documents. That was all he had done for the last few weeks. And he was tired of it. So tired, that he felt as if he could fall asleep at... any... moment.

The sound of footsteps coming towards his location jolted him awake. These footsteps were too soft to have been made by anything other than a Thunderan's padded feet.

But he could hear them anyway. And it didn't smell like an enemy. In order to compensate for his lack of sight, Lynx-O had trained his remaining four senses to the extreme.

He could tell the exact distance between him and a target based off their scent. How large they were based off where they drew their breath. How hard their armor was just by glancing it with a sword. His inability to see made him no less dangerous in combat.

This Thunderan, however, felt different. His breathing was erratic, as was his heartbeat. The timing between his footsteps suggested that he was running. And he held no parchments in his hands, no. The rustling of paper was something he would have discerned immediately. He came with a simple, vocal message.

At the same time, there was another sound. A rumbling sound as if an earthquake was advancing towards the kingdom. No living beings could make that sort of noise. Except maybe the elephants.

That wasn't his main focus right now.

The doors to Lynx-O's office burst open, causing a large gust of wind to blow into its interior and extinguish the candle's pitiful flame.

The messenger panted and leaned over, clutching his knees as he attempted to catch his breath.

"Speak, envoy."

"G-general! General.. Lynx.. O, sir." He huffed in between breaths.

"Get on with it. What is it that you have barged into my office unannounced for?!" Lynx-O yelled.

"Its the lizards! They've come once again!"

Lynx-O's frown turned into a sharp grin. "Lizards you say? Finally, something befitting of my time. Prepare my-"

"General! They.. They aren't like they were before! They come bearing weapons beyond anything we've ever seen before!"

The blind General's eyes widened. He wasted no time in grabbing his hoplon, running past the envoy and outside, towards the walls. With the incredible skill of a Cheetah a quarter of his age, he scaled the enormous stone wall in a split second and perched on its edges.

While he couldn't truly see anything, he could visualize what was in front of him. That distant sound he had heard before belonged to enormous machines of some sort. Manned by what smelled like wet mud and filth. Lizards. And there were a lot of them. The smell emanated from every angle in front of him.

His ears perked up as he heard the sound of clicking in the distance, followed by a loud blast. Instinctively, he ducked backwards.

The air above him was scorched. It burned with heat beyond that of any flame. He could feel it. If he had attempted to block or deflect the projectile it would have likely melted through his hoplon.

What sort of weapon could have done this? Sorcery?

Lynx-O grunted. This was no joke. He was expecting a one sided battle. But not like this. The lizards could have a chance at defeating Thundera's forces if they had access to technology such as this. Hell, they might even destroy Thundera.

"Sound the sirens! Prepare for battle!" He yelled at the scurrying soldiers below him before leaping off the wall himself.

* * *

The battle for Thundera's survival was hard fought. But fighting hard didn't necessarily mean they would win. The lizards had proven that many times over hundreds of skirmishes. This time, however, it was the Thunderans' turn to face that truth.

A sole lizard fired haplessly into the air and yelled out as an orange figure came down upon him. Lynx-O raised his blade in the air with one arm and jammed it deep into the soldier's chest, splitting it down the middle and causing its entrails to spill out before he pulled his chipped sword out and leapt off the lizard's lifeless body.

Countless other such bodies littered the burning hall of Thundera. Whether they were lizards or Thunderan, they all had one thing in common. They were all dead.

Lynx-O himself wasn't without injury, though. For all his battle prowess, skill was a trifling factor against overwhelming numbers and advanced technology.

One of his eyes had been gouged. An arm far too mangled to use. Multiple broken bones and internal bleeding. At least one of his organs had been punctured. It took all he had just to be able to move around properly.

He collapsed to the ground, holding himself up by using his sword as a crutch. His breath was unsteady. He felt as if he could pass out or rather, die at any moment now. But no. He still had a job to fulfil. Enemies to kill. A Thundera to protect.

His hand shakily rose to his mouth in order to try and prevent the blood he coughed up from spilling out. Then again, it was pointless, wasn't it?

The presence of an unknown, yet somewhat familiar figure approaching him caught his attention. His head swiveled towards its location. This one was large, smelled terrible and was covered in heavy armor. But why wasn't he injured at all?

That description only matched two Thunderans he knew. "Panthro..! Is that you?" Lynx-O yelled.

"Panthro? Ha! No... but close enough, aren't you?" He replied.

"Grune... I should've known. Get over here and help me! We can still-"

"Help you? Of course, my General. I, a mere soldier of the Thunderan army must listen to his General's orders, of course." Grune began to stride towards the fallen Thunderan, fist clasped firmly around his mace.

Grune grasped Lynx-O's arm and lifted him to his feet. "My thanks. Now, we should re-" He was interrupted by Grune grabbing his shoulder and tossing him into a chunk of rubble

"GaAH! What are you-" A massive foot crashed into Lynx-O's head, crushing it against the stone before his fist slammed down against his skull. His sword was plucked out of his fingers and tossed far away.

His limp body slid down the wall, staining it with blood before he was lifted off the ground with one arm and thrown to the side.

"kAff, khffff.." Lynx-O coughed weakly and tried to stand up, but his injuries were far too severe to allow him even that. Not to mention the concussion he had just suffered at the hands of Grune.

A wad of spit landed near him. "Is that all you've got, General?" Grune grabbed him by his collar and raised him up. "War's over. You're done, fool."

"T-traitor! You... You would betray Thundera? And for what? For these disgusting lizards?"

"It was Thundera that betrayed me. Think about it, Lynx-O. While you were being anointed General, I was sent to find a book. Claudus called it a 'much more important task.' Bah! I should've been General. Not a weakling like you."

"..Heh, its not as great as you think it is." Lynx-O managed to contort his lips into a mild grin.

"No... Its not. But being Mumm-Ra's General is."

"Mumm-Ra?! Fool! Have you lost your mind?! You would side with not only the Lizards, but the Ever-Living one himself?! You've doomed us all!"

"No. Just Thundera. And you along with it." He threw Lynx-O once again. This time, towards a silent spectator.

Slithe looked down at the pitiful sight before him. An aged, broken Thunderan general. A far cry from the violent bladestorm that he was all those years ago. But he would no receive any sympathy from him, no.

He and his entire race would pay for what they had done that day.

His scaly, bony fingers reached down and picked the old soldier up by the neck, lifting him off the ground and turning him face to face with the lizard.

Lynx-O's body was absolutely limp. His eyes were closed and his breath was irregular. Slithe stared at him for a few moments.

"You... You have no idea how long I've waited for this moment, scum." He finally spoke.

"Yhh.." Lynx-O groaned, apparently only half conscious. Slithe's head tilted to the side.

"What's that? Speak up."

"You...You'll have to wait another thousand years, fool!" The Thunderan General sprung to life, pulling a hidden dagger out of his tunic.

The dagger's edge was jammed deep into Slithe's gut. But Lynx-O was too frail to spill open his stomach. No, he could barely even withdraw his weapon.

Much to his surprise, Slithe was unfazed. Expressionless. It was as if he hadn't even noticed that he was stabbed.

"Tsk, tsk tsk. Such a thing won't hurt me. Not until I get my revenge." He snarled.

"Do you remember that day, twenty years ago? You butchered my father. Killed my brothers. Slaughtered my family."

Lynx-O managed a defiant smirk. "I killed many _*kaFF*_ lizards throughout my life. I would not remember a single one of you pathetic- **GRAAGHH** "

Slithe would allow no desecration of his family's memory. Especially not from the one who killed them. His hand still held firmly onto Lynx-O's bloody arm, albeit twisted in a most gruesome fashion from its owner's body.

The joint had been twisted into a fleshy mass, bones crushed beyond fractures. Only fibers and tendons still attached the arm to his shoulder. Blood spurted out from a severed artery as Slithe continued to deform the screaming Lynx-O's muscle tissue into a pulp.

He took immense pleasure in his enemy's extreme pain. Even Grune, the most battle hardened of warriors was forced to look away from the horrible scene.

Every time Slithe turned his fist, the most beautifully disgusting sounds followed in suit. Screams. The cracking of bones breaking and flesh contorting into squishy marrow. It all sounded so heavenly to him.

Eventually, he decided that he had enough. The horrendously mangled arm was ripped directly off his pendulous body and thrown behind him.

"Now... onto the _other_ arm."

* * *

Lynx-O lay on the ground, lifeless after what seemed to be an eternity. His body had been disfigured beyond recognition by this point. All of his limbs had been gored and removed from his body. His intestines spilled out of a massive gash in his abdomen and blood poured from every crevice.

The corpse was covered in cuts, bruises and even had chunks of flesh bitten directly off of it. Where eyes had been, there were now empty, bloody sockets oozing lifeblood. His jaw had been ripped off, teeth plucked out. Truly an abominable sight.

It still wasn't enough. He wanted more. He wanted this creature to feel the endless mental anguish he had been subjected to throughout the years as well. It wasn't enough. Not nearly enough.

He reached down to grab the crimson corpse, but his arm was stopped by the hand of Grune.

The massive Thunderan grunted and scowled. "Enough."

"Get your hand off me, you filthy wre _KKRC_ -" Grune's enormous palm gripped Slithe's face, silencing him.

"I will not allow any further defilement of Lynx-O, no matter what he has stolen from me. The only reason you do not lay dead in the mud like the scum you are is because Mumm-Ra has ordered me not to do so. Understand that, whelp." He growled, smashing Slithe face first into the ground.

Grune looked a final time at the dead general's remains before frowning and returning to the ongoing battle, leaving Slithe motionless in the dirt.

But Slithe wasn't unconscious, no. He was merely drowning in his self pity. Even though he had gotten his revenge on his foe, he still didn't feel accomplished. He felt empty.

He was still weak. For all his bluster and accomplishments, he had nothing to show for it. He wasn't a self-made lizard. The only reason he even had the chance to enact this vengeance was because of Mumm-Ra.

Could he really call this true revenge?

No.

No, he couldn't.

What he had wasn't power. It was weakness.

Tears leaked from his eyes as he continued to writhe in the mud, struggling to come to terms with everything that had occurred over the years.

* * *

The great stone pillars of Thundera collapsed as enormous metal machines began advancing into the city, bearing weapons of great destruction on their shoulders to bring everything down with fire.

Each missile that emerged from the cannons annihilated everything in its path, whether it be stone or soldier.

Pumyra leapt through the smoke that came in suit, blocking laser fire with her gauntlets and firing back at the panicked invaders with bolts from her crossbow.

"One down. Two." She thought as she continued to dodge projectiles and explosions that persistently followed behind her, until she finally made a misstep and was caught in one of them.

The blast knocked her into a pile of rubble, causing her to ricochet off and onto the ground where she was buried underneath more falling debris.

She groaned weedily before the world around her grew black. While she wasn't dead, she was indeed unconscious.

Regaining consciousness the day after Thundera had already fallen, she was soon to realize that her legs were pinned underneath heavy wreckage and was forced to endure until help arrived. But it never did.

"Grrhhhhh!" She gritted her teeth and attempted to wrest her limbs free to no avail. There simply wasn't any strength left in her body after an entire night of turmoil.

"If only.. I.. Had... The... Sttrengthh!" She groaned as she continued to struggle against the rubble.

It was no use. She wasn't strong enough to do it. All she could do now was lie there helplessly and hope that someone would come across her.

Hours later, her hope was renewed when she caught glimpse of Lion-O wandering through the smoking ruins of Thundera.

Her eyes widened and her hand futilely reached out to signal for him, but he was quickly getting further and further away.

"Lion-O... Please... Don't.. leave me..." She weakly called out. He was too far away at this point to hear her.

 **Or did he just ignore her calls?**

Darkness spread out from the corners of her eyes as she quickly lost consciousness for the final time. Or so she thought.

She was given a second chance. Mumm-Ra heard her anger..? And desire for revenge... On Lion-O.

Lion-O was her true enemy. He left her to die, pitifully and alone in the ruins of her beautiful home.

...That Mumm-Ra destroyed. But Lion-O was..?

"Yes, Pumyra... Lion-O left you to die that day. He heard your calls for help, and chose to leave you be."

"But... Mumm-Ra.."

"Mumm-Ra saved you that day. He gave you a second chance. And you will use it to **DESTROY LION-O!** "

* * *

She gasped. Her eyes snapped open. She sat up in a cold sweat and clutched her head. It hurt. Badly. She felt strange, as she had for the past few years. But why?

Not that it mattered. She lived only to serve Mumm-Ra, and to kill Lion-O. That's all that she needed.

Right?

Unbeknownst to her, her eyes glimmered with a slight hue of purple. If you were to look closely, perhaps you could see the image of Mumm-Ra cackling inside of them.


End file.
